It is the experiment forced upon you when all of your friends are married, or shackin’-up and you’re still waiting for your ideal guy. It is the experience of flirting with the guy in the elevator with a lisp, who you may suspect is a crack dealer (it is downtown Minneapolis after all), but convince yourself the crystals on his lips are really pre-winter snowflakes. To be honest, on a scale from 1-10, this guy is the one who calculates the data rather than the calculable end result. I regret it every time I see him in the elevator. I should have known to run by the way he aggressively pushed the floor button and smelled like old coffee.

But I digress, back to the point. Walks with Sage is my attempt at a mildly self-deprecating social experiment. Once a week Sage and I will pound the pavement looking for Mr. Hot or Mr. Somewhat-attractive-with-money. Hail Mary, may I find the guy who is creative, ambitious, successful, and obviously he MUST LOVE DOG. Hail garbage man, may I find a guy who can hold me while holding his liquor. It must be noted that this blog could end instantly if someone offers me a friend to ‘woo’ or be ‘woo-ed ‘ by other than the drunk friend in the corner or the pot head chiropractor.

Who is Sage?Sage is my friend’s mutt. A handsome, merle colored hound from the Boulder Valley Humane Society (Boulder, CO). Simply stated, he is a show stopper. A classy street walker (if this defines a Mutt, perhaps I have found my new label…). I know you’re wondering: Am I above pawning off a dog as my own? Hell no. Just as your fake eye-lashes and push-up bra are your accessories, Sage is mine. Sage’s true owner, has graciously agreed to offer up her dog in return for a free pass to my condo’s pool (she has a Dr. boyfriend so lounging by the pool is her ONLY worry). What are the odds that she gets a great tan before I get a date?

The idea for the blog arose during a week of dog sitting Sage and his two brother cats. While walking Sage, I was continuously asked “What kind of dog is that?” or “Is that a hyena?” While I happily answered the inquisitive passers-by, I couldn’t help but think: they noticed Sage before me? Did they not see my tight, racer back tank top and yoga pants?? I mean its one thing if you’re into dogs, but to deny my obvious attempt at athletic slut-wear is another. Something had to be done. I needed to exercise (not myself, but Sage) more often, perhaps once a week, in an attempt to catch that doctor, or that scientist, or that independently wealthy Jake-Gyllenhaal-look-a-like, but taller and with a name I can embroider onto a pillowcase without getting arthritis. With leash in hand, Sage and I go forth…

Your “TO DO”:

Follow Sage and I as we experience the guys, the sights, and the crazies encountered during our weekly walks in downtown Minneapolis. I can’t make any promises but I hope, nay pray, that something interesting happens.

Please note that on occasion I will post a blog without the help of my furry footed friend (I mean Sage). He has yet to realize the importance of this experiment. To be honest, there are some days that Sage would rather chase balls in his own back yard and leave the chasing of men…to me.

(No animals were injured during this blog)

Where should we walk?

Let us know where Sage and I can find the best guys! Add your own pictures and stories.